Blades of Silver
by ValentineRose28
Summary: Max's dad is an abusive drunk and her mother is mentaly unstable. Her brother is a drug addict, and the only normal one is her sister. he is always trying to protect her, because she's the only one Max really loves. Really long one shot.


**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MAXIMUM RIDE!**

**I had to do this for an English paper, but I decided to post it because…well because I felt like it. **

**Just in case I missed anything, Claire is Angel and Charlotte is Max. I tried to change all the names, but I might have missed a few. **

**OMG SOMEONE MENTIONED ME IN THEIR BLOG! ITS SO COOL! **

**It is trinity-mylife-trinity. blogspot. com**

**Just make sure you delete the spaces before blogspot and com, otherwise it won't work!**

Blades of Silver

Prologue

When you were younger, did you ever think about running out into the road when a car was coming? Did you ever sit in a bathtub full of sudsy water and want to pull the blow dryer, plugged in just mere feet away, in with you? Did you ever want to stick your finger in a light socket, just to see what would happen?

No, I guess you didn't. But, then again, you didn't have my childhood. Full of pain and tears. I guess I should introduce myself: I'm Maximum Rose Anderson, age sixteen. I have curly, golden colored hair and emerald green eyes, a few freckles spattered across my nose and cheeks. I'm five foot 6, and only weigh a slim 100 pounds. I guess you could say I have an eating disorder. I am getting better though. But that's a completely different story, although it might pop up a few times during this one.

Is my family normal? Well, sure, if you think a stoned brother, a mentally unstable mother, a drunk, abusive father, and an anorexic, bulimic teenager (me) are a normal family. Actually, the only "normal" one of us is my baby sister, Claire. I'm sort of like her protector, but you'll find that out soon enough. We would be what you call a "Dysfunctional Family". We, well, we basically hate each other. I don't know about them, but I cant even stand just to be in the same room as my family members. Except Angel. I absolutely adore her.

I'm not exactly sure when we started hating each other. Maybe it was when that car accident damaged my mother so badly we could hardly look at her, much less talk to and interact with her. She has mental problems, and I mean that in a totally non-funny way. Like, she's seriously unstable. Anything can set her off on a screaming, sobbing, tormenting rage.

Yeah it could be that. Or maybe it could be when my brother, Iggy, started doing Crack and Meth and all that other crap that messed him up. He's 18, by the way, but he still lives at home and acts like a 12 year-old. It was most likely then. Or maybe it was when I started having "attitude problems" which is what my dad called my eating disorder. I got all the way down to 78 pounds before my 10th grade history teacher finally reported me to the counselor, who then had me admitted to the hospital (much to the dismay of myself…and my dad.) They got me back up to what they thought was a stable weight, and I stayed there. Mostly because if I got admitted back to the hospital again, my dad would beat me even harder than last time.

So, yeah, it could be that too. But I think it was when my dad started spending his weekly salary on booze. We almost never had any food, so I actually got a job at a diner called "Greasy Mike's". Yeah, no joke, that was actually the name. I took Angel to work with me so she wouldn't be home at the mercy of my drunken father.

As much as I hate my brother and my mom, I have to say I hate my father the most. He's the source of all the crap that's wrong with me. He's the reason I can't cram anything down my throat without freaking out about how every single calorie is going to make me swell up like a balloon. Whenever he would bare down on me in his drunken rage, he would scream things like "You stupid fat slut!" I took it to heart. It made me crazy. Everything I would eat, I would automatically throw back up. Or I would just not eat at all. At lunch at school, I would cut everything up into little pieces and then arrange them on my tray so that it looks like I had eaten something. I still can't eat a lot at one time without having a panic attack. But enough about that, on with the miserable story that is my life.

Chapter 1

I awoke to the annoying buzz of my alarm clock. Blinking groggily, my hand limply slapped the little button on the top, the one that made it shut up. I sat up into a crumpled, but still technically upright position. 5:30= worst time of the day.

"Time to get up, Max!" Angel said, jumping on top of me and calling me by the nickname she gave me when she was two. I remember when she was two…back before our family despised each other. We used to laugh and laugh at her failed attempts to say my name, until one day, in a frustrated huff, she deemed me "Max" and that was the end of that.

"I'm up." I groaned. I didn't understand how she was always so awake in the mornings.

"Can you help me with my buttons?" she said, gesturing to the square buttons on her purple button up shirt. Purple was her favorite color, so I always took special care to get her purple stuff from the good will place across town.

"Sure, come here." she scooted close, her torso turned to face me. Her face was beautiful, even for a 6 year old. It was small and heart-shaped, and she had emerald green eyes and golden curly hair just like me. Under her right eye was a little heart-shaped birthmark, about the size of the tip of my pinkie. Her eyes themselves were big and round, with long, black eyelashes, and her nose small and straight. Her teeth were all perfectly straight and white. Like I said, beautiful.

"Thanks." she said, then hopped off my bed and tiptoed to the bathroom to brush her teeth, careful not to awaken the sleeping house. We always left long before the others woke up, so we didn't have to deal with them in the mornings. I dressed in something warm, then went to join her.

"Will you brush my hair?" she asked, staring up at me with her big green eyes. I smiled and nodded.

"Max?" she asked as I was running the brush through her curls.

"Mmm hmm?" I hummed.

"Why is there a cut on your wrist?" she asked, staring at it in the mirror. My arm halted it's brushing motion and I felt my face freeze. Oh, yeah, that's another thing about me: I cut. I cant help it. My emotions are too sucky to deal with, so I do this instead. It's better than resorting to drugs or alcohol like my brother and dad. I mean, I could stop any time I wanted to…I just don't want to.

"Um…uh…um…I just s-scraped it. On something." I stuttered. She turned around and kissed it, then smiled up at me. I managed a wobbly one back, then finished brushing her hair. I brushed my own hair and then we slipped out the back door, completely undetected. I lifted Angel over the fence, and then hopped it myself.

"So where do you want to go, Care-Bear?" I asked, still shaky from the thing in the bathroom.

"Can we go to the park where we usually go?" she asked. I nodded, and we walked in silence, just enjoying the chilly air. You know, the kind you can only get in the early morning. Where it's just like, the cold is inside you. Nestled at your very core. We entered the park and found the bench we always sat at.

She had only a couple hours before school started, so I told her she could go sit by the pond, but couldn't play in it. She ran over to it and started quacking at the ducks. Oh, the humor of a six year old…

"Max, is it time to go?" Angel asked me, shaking me out of my daze. I checked my second hand watch: 7:30.

"Yeah, come on. I'll walk you to school." we walked side by side. I felt Angel reach for my, but then stop. She tried so hard to be tough. Like, when dad was drunk and coming after us, and I couldn't get in between him and her fast enough, and she got slapped across the face. Not a tear was shed on her part, and I took the rest of his rage that night.

I reached down and took her small hand into mine. She looked up at me in surprise, but gripped my hand tighter, so I knew I had done the right thing. We walked all the way to her elementary school without talking, and then I dropped her off.

"Remember, when school is over, you wait right here for me. Okay? Do not let anyone else pick you up, and if someone tries to take you, scream." obviously, we lived in a very bad neighborhood. But hey, it's cheap and I have to pay the bills since my dad isn't going to spend his money on anything but beer. My brother used to have a job, but he got fired when he got caught stealing from the company. I don't go to school anymore, I dropped out so that I could work full time. It still is just barely enough to get by, though. I might even end up getting another job.

After dropping off Angel, I walked for about two blocks until I got to Greasy Mike's.

"I'm here! Break out the champagne!" I sang as I walked through the front door, the bells jingling merrily as they hit the window. The name might suck, but the actual restaurant is wonderful. It has great food, and great service.

"Hey, there she is! How is my beautiful Maximum?" Tracy sang back in reply. She was sitting at the counter eating a slice of coconut cream pie: a specialty of Mike's. The Regulars (that's what they call themselves) here are more like family to me than my actual family is. There's Tracy, who always wears rain boots and drives this amazingly beautiful old truck. Then there's Brian, who treats me like his own daughter. Like, I even get birthday and Christmas presents from him. Then there's Mike, who owns the place, is more like a cool Grandpa than a boss. The there's Tyson, who people think is a serial killer just because he's black and he has a bunch of tattoos and carries a knife in his overly-saggy pant's waistline. I love them all too much for words.

"How's that cute little sister of your's?" Tyson asks, sipping his black coffee. I smile and tell him she's fine.

"How's the rest of your family." he asks. I freeze my smile into place and lie through my teeth.

"They're all good." I turn around and slip my apron on, just to avoid looking at my friends. They don't really know anything about my personal life. It's too painful. And work is a pain-free zone.

Here's a secret: I might act all hunky-dory "Everything's fine" all day, but in reality, I'm screaming inside. I want someone, anyone, to help me and my sister. I hate the situation we're in. I hate my father for putting us in this situation. I want to tell someone, but I'm afraid that if I do, and dad finds out, then he'll just get even angrier.

People have started coming in, so I don't have another chance to think about my screwed up life until my lunch break.

"Imma go for my break now, Mike. See you in 45 minutes." I called, then left the diner. I walked back to the little park where me and Angel were this morning before she went to school. I unwrapped my sandwich, tore it up, then threw it to the ducks. No way was I going to eat that. Too many calories, too much fat. I would just stick with water. Good, non-fattening water. I sat staring at the water until I heard my watch beep, which means it was 1:00 and my break was over. I got up and wearily picked m way back to the diner.

"Hey. Have a good lunch?" Mike asked. I just shrugged, and Tracy gave me a knowing look. When I was hospitalized, the Regulars were the only visitors I got. Tracy knew that it was hard for me to eat.

After I got out of the hospital, I went home to find that Angel had been beaten black and blue. I got so angry that I started screaming at my father. Of course, he got angry and I, being too weak to defend myself, also got beaten till I passed out cold on the dirty, cracked linoleum of our kitchen floors.

"Did you eat anything?" Tracy asked gently. I just shrugged again. She bit her bottom lip ad looked away from me. I went to work, taking orders and wiping down tables. The Regulars all worked at Greasy Mike's, but I was the only one who really ever did anything. Which is totally fine with me. It's nice to have someone to talk to while you deliver orders and clean bathrooms.

A tinkling of tiny bells caught my attention, and I turned to JJ walk in the front door. J.J. only worked the dinner special, and she was one of my favorite Regulars. She was 20, and beautiful. She was like a second sister to me.

"Hey, JJ!" I exclaimed, and she shot me a dazzling grin. She only worked here to pay her way through college.

" 'Sup Babe?" she said, with that certain charm of her's. She tied on her apron and went and sat next to Tracy at the bar. The rest of the working hours went by without error, and before I knew it, it was time for me to go and get Angel.

"Mike! Be back in 15 minutes! Going to get Angel!" I yelled. I heard his muffled reply, and pushed through the door. It started to rain, so I picked up the pace and ran through the dirty streets of Seattle.

"Angel!" I yelled over a clap of thunder. Her blond hair peeked out from under her purple rain coat, and I grabbed her off the concrete porch of the school.

"Come here, let me carry you!" I yelled, then swung her up into my arms and ran back to the diner.

"Woa, it's storming pretty hard, isn't it?" Tyson asked when we walked through the door. I nodded and set Angel down. She was shivering, so I led her into the bathroom and wrung her hair out in the sink.

"Come here, baby. I'll go see if anyone has another jacket." I stripped her's off of her shoulders, and walked back into the main dining area.

"Angel's freezing. I don't want her to get sick, so does anyone have another coat?" I asked. Tracy reached behind her and pulled a fleece sweater out of her bag. I took it and went back to the bathroom to pull it over Angel's head.

"T-thanks." she chattered, trying to stop shivering.

"There she is. Come here, sugar, let Tracy warm you up." Angel ran to her and Tracy lifted her into her lap, putting her arms around Angel's shivering form. There weren't many other customer that evening, so Mike let us go home early. If only he knew what was waiting for us there…

Chapter 2

We walked into what could only be described as chaos. Mom was crying and running around and screaming, Dad was yelling and swearing, and Ryan was just sitting there staring out the window.

"Finally! What the hell took you so long?" Dad bellowed when he heard me close the front door. I winced, then prepared myself for an incredibly long night.

"I'm sorry, I was at work." I said softly. I could tell he was drunk by the way he was having trouble focusing on me, and his speech was slurred. I shoved Angel in the direction of the bathroom. It was what we always did: she locked herself in the bathroom until I could get him to sleep for the night, then she came out and helped me clean up the destroyed rooms. Or helped me bandage myself, it depended on what kind of night it was.

It seemed tonight was going to be of the latter kind.

Angel took off running to the bathroom, Dad staggering closely behind. I managed to grab one of his wrinkled shirt-tails and keep him away from her, which, of course, only ticked him off further. He whirled on me and pushed me to the ground. I landed hard on my butt, but got up quickly.

"I'll teach you to lay a hand on me." he slurred menacingly. I realized that Iggy must have taken Mom into her room and locked the door, like he always does when Dad gets like this.

Iggy only likes Mom. She's just so fragile, but he loves her. He never protects me or Angel, but rescues Mom instead.

Dad grabbed my arms and threw, yes literally threw, me across the room. I hit the wall with a pained cry, then slid down into the fetal position. I heard his heavy footsteps advancing in my direction, and curled up tighter. He landed a solid kick to my right shoulder blade, and I gasped in pain. He reached down and grabbed me by my belt loops, hauling me to my feet. I whirled around and tried to run to the kitchen, but he tripped me and I went down again. The breath whooshed out of my lungs with an audible "oof" and I felt tears gather in my eyes.

I stood shakily and faced him, head on. He glared at me like I was the ugliest, most despicable thing on the earth. Then, when I least expected it, he pulled back and punched me in the nose. I felt it snap, and blood came gushing out. He reared back again and punched me in the jaw with so much force that I literally whirled around in a circle. I fell to my hands and knees.

"You are a filthy little girl, and I hate you." 'he ground out, punctuating every other word with a punch to my gut or ribs. I shoved him off me, and tried to run again.

"Leave me alone!" I wailed, but he just slapped me. My vision was getting hazy, and I was feeling light-headed.

"You're a good for nothing little brat." he spat at me. He shoved me into the bookshelf and I hit my head. I felt blood start dribbling down from a gash right above my eye. My vision was obstructed by a red haze. I just fell down and didn't get back up. He kicked me once…twice…three time. He spat at me once again, then left the room.

I floated in and out of consciousness for about an hour and a half. At one point I heard the bathroom door open and Angel came out.

"Max!" she gasped, then rushed to my side. I opened my eyes and saw her put a hand to her mouth to stifle another gasp of horror.

" 'S'not so bad." I whispered hoarsely, then winced at the pain in my cracked, bleeding lips.

"You're bleeding." she whispered.

" 'S'nothing new." I whispered back. I licked the blood off my lips and sat up slowly, hissing in a breath at the pain in my stomach and ribs. Angel held my hand as we made our way quietly to the bathroom. I sat on the toilet seat, my head between my knees from the overwhelming dizzy feeling I had.

"Do you need to see a doctor?" Angel whispered, appearing down by my feet on the floor. She was crouching down so she could see my face. I sat up and chuckled at her, but stopped quickly because it just made my head pound.

"No, I'm okay. I've been hurt worse. You know that." it was true. One time he threw me down the stairs that lead up to our apartment. I was conscious for that though, so I broke the fall with my hands. Doesn't mean he wouldn't try it again…

"Yeah…" she was looking at my forehead. "That cut looks really bad though…" I stood up and looked in the mirror.

Now it was my turn to gasp. I looked awful! No wonder Angel was more scared than usual! The cut on my forehead ran from my eyebrow into my hairline, with a bruise running around the edges like some type of picture frame and it was dripping with my scarlet blood . So were my lips and my nose. I had two black eyes from my broken nose. My left cheekbone had an already blooming bruise that stretched from my temple all the way to the corner of my eye. It was purple along the edges and pure black in the middle. I lifted my shirt up, and Angel and I both gasped again. My rib cage was covered in blue, purple, and black splotches. Like, a whole bunch of pens had just busted and leaked all over me. My ribs stuck out from my body like a skeleton, and that along with the new bruising made me look like some freak. My arms had bruises wrapping around them where Dad had grabbed me and threw me against the wall. Which reminded me…I lifted a hand to where I had hit that wall, then flinched and pulled my hand away. There was a huge knot on my head. I opened the medicine cabinet, pulled out pain medicine, bandages, and Neosporin. After cleaning and bandaging my wounds, I popped some pain medicine and turned to see Angel crying. She never cries, and she's only six…

"What's wrong?" I asked, alarmed.

"I don't w-w-want Dad-d-dy to h-hurt you anym-more!" She sobbed. I knelt down and pulled her to my chest, trying to comfort her and muffle her sobs at the same time. If Dad heard, he would wake up, and it would not be pretty. If you thought he was mad before, it isn't anything compared to wheat he would be if he got woken up from his alcohol induced slumber.

"Shhh, please don't wake him up, I'm ok! See, I'm fine! I'm not that hurt, it just looks bad." okay, so now I was lying through my teeth. But, hey, there's no need to worry her even more. She hiccupped, and stopped crying all together. I took her by the hand and led her to our room.

She yanked her clothes off and I pulled her purple nightgown on over her head. I lifted her up into the top bunk that was her's, tucked her in, then laid my aching head down on my own pillow. I was just absolutely exhausted, but I couldn't sleep until she did. My eyes, hot with fatigue, stared up at her bed for two hours, until I finally heard her breathing even out and she started snoring softly. Then, I rolled over and finally, finally, went to sleep.

Chapter 3

The annoying buzz of the alarm clock woke me up again. Since it was Saturday, I think I'm going to let Angel sleep until I'm ready to leave. I yawn and stretch, but immediately double over from pain. My face and ribs and arms are pounding, and I tip toe to the bathroom to check out the damage. It's always worse in the mornings, I've come to learn.

Okay, so I couldn't help it, I gasped (again) in horror when I saw my reflection. It was just awful. My black eyes were even worse, and so was the bruising on my cheekbone and forehead. I yanked my pajama shirt out of the way to reveal awful bruising on my ribs. You couldn't even see any of my pale white skin underneath, that's how bad it was.

"Jesus…" I breathed. I grabbed a jar of concealer and started dabbing it on the bruises on my face, wincing because of the tenderness there. After they were fully covered, I got dressed, brushed my hair and teeth, then woke Angel up.

"Max, can you brush my hair again?" she asked, rubbing sleep from her eyes. I nodded, then brushed it quickly and we left. After sitting in the park for a couple hours, I carried her to the diner and let her go back to sleep in one of the booths.

"She looks exhausted." Tracy said quietly. The diner wasn't very busy right now, so I was sitting next to her drinking a cup of coffee.

"She is. It took a long time to fall asleep last night." I replied.

"Hmm." she hummed.

"I'll be right back, I just need to run to the bathroom." I stood up and made my way to the restrooms. What I was really going to do was re-adjust my ace wrap that was around my ribs. It was too loose and wasn't really helping any. I lifted my shirt up, unwound the wrapping, and just stared at my mottled skin. I was so transfixed my it that I didn't hear the bathroom door creak open. I didn't even know I wasn't alone until I heard a slightly hysteric gasp. I whirled around to see Tracy standing in the doorway, staring at my torso, looking absolutely appalled and just slightly sickened by it's abnormal coloring.

"You were gone for a while…I wanted to know where you…oh my God! What happened?" she asked, breathless. I felt tears well up in my eyes and my lower lip started wobbling. I yanked my shirt down and tried to push past her.

"Nothing! It's nothing! I'm fine! Please, leave me alone!" she grabbed me by my upper arms, just as Dad had done last night. I started having horrible flashbacks from all the time he's done that through the years, and then I started screaming. Loud, ear-piercing shrieks that scraped my throat raw. Tracy just wrapped me in a hug, and I screamed into her shoulder, until the screams turned to sobs. She just rocked me back and forward and shushed me and told me it was going to be all right. The other Regular's had heard my screams and came running to see what was wrong, and now they all crowed around me: rubbing my back, patting my hair, whispering things to me that I couldn't hear, but were still comforting anyways. My sobs turned to hiccupping breaths and my shoulder shaking to slight shudders, and I pulled away from her. The Regulars didn't know the reason for my meltdown, and they were all staring at me in confusion. I avoided their eyes, and looked at Tracy.

"You cant tell anyone. They will only get worse if you do. I'm dealing with it. Just please, keep your mouth shut until I need you to." I gasped desperately. She looked at me with uncertain eyes and nodded. Went back to work like nothing had happened, and I left work that evening thinking that maybe things would be ok.

Boy, was I mistaken.

Chapter 4

I walked through the front door only to find my father stalking around, knocking things over, throwing things.

"You!" he roared when he saw me. I shoved Angel away from me, towards the bathroom, again, and cringed as he staggered towards me.

"You told that bitch that I hit you, didn't you?" he grabbed my collar and brought my face very close to his, and spit flew from his mouth as he screamed at me.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I whimpered, trying (and failing) to push him off me. I gagged at the heavy scent of liquor that was rolling off of him, and he shook my frail body.

"You're lying! She called me today to see what was wrong with you! She said she found you in the bathroom at that stupid place you work at, and that you had bruises everywhere. What did you tell her?" he bellowed. When I did nothing but whimper in fear, he roared and threw my body from his. I sailed over the coffee table into the TV. My head slammed painfully into it, and I saw stars. My dad's blurry form appeared over me. I flung my arms over my head in a feeble attempt to stop his hand from slapping my already bruised cheek. He hit it anyways, and it smarted sharply. I hissed in a breath, then rolled sideways so that his next hit smack the TV, not me. Which, unfortunately, only made him roar in pain and make him angrier.

"Fat whore!" he screamed. I jumped to my feet, only to fall over again as a nauseating wave of vertigo hit me head on like an eighteen-wheeler. He stumbled towards me and yanked me up by my gold curls. I yelped and scrambled to my feet. He wrapped his hand in the hair at the base of my neck and brought my ear very close to his foul-smelling mouth.

"You are going to be so sorry." he hissed, then flung me from him like a sack of potatoes. I cracked my head on the wall and felt tears well up in my green eyes as I let the inky darkness engulf me.

Chapter 5

"Max? Max? Max, you have to wake up!" an insistent voice hissed in my ear. I felt a small hand shake my shoulder and I blinked my eyes open. Angel was hovering over me, a frightened expression on her little face. I sat up slowly, groaning.

"Are you ok?" Angel whispered. I nodded, but didn't say anything. I was afraid that if I unclenched my jaws I would start screaming in agony. My head was pounding. I lifted a pale, shaking hand to the side of my head where I had hit it on the wall, and was dismayed to feel something sticky and warm. Pulling my hand away, I found that it was covered in my scarlet blood. More blood was trickling down my forehead and into my eyes, tinting my vision red. Angel saw it and slapped a hand to her mouth.

"It's fine. It'll be fine." I croaked, even as my vision grew hazy and I saw spots. The room swayed and the next thing I know, I'm being sucked under again.

I awoke sometime later, still laying on the floor, except now there's a pillow under my head and I'm being squished under about a million quilts.

"You were shivering, so I just kept putting blankets on you until you stopped." Angel whispered, reading my mind. I put a hand to my head and felt a crusty layer of dry blood matting my curls and turning them pink. I shoved all the blankets off and looked at my watch. It was 1:30 in the morning.

"Angel have you been awake this whole time?" I whispered hoarsely. She nodded.

"Why?"

"Because you needed me." she answered simply. I guess it made sense.

"Can you help me out? I want to wash this crap out of my hair, but I can barely lift my arms. Would you my just getting a cup and rinsing my hair?" I whispered, pleading. My hair felt really gross, and I needed to get the cut cleaned. She nodded. I stood, using the wall as a brace. Finally, after about 5 minutes, I made it into a standing position. Angel put my arm around her shoulders, and together we made our way to the bathroom. I sat on the floor while she lifted my shirt over my head, then I stripped my jeans and other things and gingerly sat in the tub of scalding water. She ran to the kitchen and got a tall glass and a wash cloth out of the cabinet, then came back.

"I don't want to hurt you." she said, uncertain.

"Baby, you won't hurt me anymore than I already am. Actually, leaving the blood in there is hurting me. I need it to be clean." I whispered. She rinsed the blood from my hair carefully, then washed it and my other scrapes along my arms and face. After that, I dried off slowly and painfully and she helped me pull my nightgown over my head and buttoned the buttons on the back. Together, we walked to our room where she changed quickly to her pajamas and we both fell into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 6

I awoke, again, a few hours later to a sharp cry of pain.

But it wasn't mine.

My eyes popped wide open and I saw Angel laying on the floor, my Dad hovering over her with a knife. It was shiny…with what? I didn't want to know. Forgetting the agonizing pain in my body, I leaped to my feet and smacked the knife out of Dad's hand. He whirled to face me. I reared back and slapped him across the face with all the force I could muster. His head jerked to one side and he slowly looked back at me.

"What the hell is the matter with you? How could you hurt your own child?" I screeched.

"You should not have done that." he whispered, low and menacing. My stomach jumped in fear, but I shoved it down and punched him in the face, ignoring the protests of my sore shoulders. His nose made a satisfying crack, and blood came gushing out.

And it all sort of went downhill from there.

My dad roared in pain and shoved me back, making me hit the back of my calves on the bed frame. I put my arms out in front of me to protect myself. He made a stumbling leap towards me, but I rolled backwards off the bed and ran out of the room.

"Iggy, for once in your life, don't be an asshole and get out here and help me!" I screamed, running through the house. I heard a door open and Iggy appeared, looking startled. He scratched his head and went back to his room. It dawned on me then, he wasn't going to help me. That new knowledge hit me like a bucket of ice water. A ragged sob tore at my throat, and Dad tackled me from behind. He hit me in the stomach, then the face. Everywhere he would reach, he hit, his fists flying wildly. I clenched my jaw together and never made a sound.

Finally, he got tired and slumped to the floor next to me. I jumped up, ignoring the blood running from my nose and reopened head wound, and ran to my room. Angel was lying there, in a puddle of her own blood. I saw several stab wounds in her stomach and chest, and I gasped. Scooping her up, I fled the house and raced to the hospital that was just 2 blocks down. Convenient, I know. They saw her mangled body and immediately admitted us. I was sitting in the waiting room when a nurse came up to me and asked me if I needed help too. Tears welled up in my eyes and I nodded. She led me to another white room and gently cleaned my wounds.

"Baby, you wanna tell me what happened?" she asked in her gentle southern drawl. I shook my head.

"It'll only get worse." I whispered. It dawned on me then, how badly we were screwed right now. Angel could die, and it wouldn't matter. Dad would never stop. I was going to be forced to undergo this shit until I died. Tears poured down my face and I sobbed into the nurse's white uniform. She let me cry until I was done, and then handed me a tissue. I wiped my eyes and blew my nose.

"Thanks." I murmured. She smiled. I let her finish cleaning my wounds, then left the room without a second glace back. I sat in the waiting room until a doctor, clad in green scrubs, walked out. The front of her shirt had blood smeared on it and I fought to keep the bile down. That was Angel's blood. Oh God…

"Your sister is in critical condition. The very tip of the knife pierced her stomach but we got it sewn up in time. She lost a lot of blood, so we are going to need to monitor her for a while. She's in recovery right now. Would you like to see her?" she asked. I nodded numbly. she led me to another, wait for it, white room where I saw a limp form laying on the bed.

"You can stay as long as you like." she whispered, then walked out.

"Oh, Angel…Oh, Angel…" I wailed, and rushed to her side. I was sobbing again, into her side. I shoved the hospital blankets aside and saw that her entire torso was wrapped in bloody white bandages. I scooted her over and laid down next to her, careful not to disturb any of the wires. I fell asleep, next to my sister's ailing body.

Chapter 7

Angel was out of the hospital about 3 months later. I've been depressed ever since that night. One Saturday, at work, I decided it was all too much. I made sure Angel was asleep, then I slipped away while the Regulars were on their lunch break. In the bathroom, I pulled out a razor blade and pressed it too my wrist. Then, with a quick slicing motion, I pulled it across my skin. It bit into my flesh and a line a blood seeped out. I pressed harder, and more came. Weird, I thought it would hurt more, but all I felt was an annoying stinging sensation. Like a mosquito, or something. Not totally comfortable, but I could deal with it. I did it to the other wrist and sat there, basking in my death. But, all too soon, I was pulled put of my joy by the sound of the bathroom door creaking open. JJ came in, took one look at me sitting there in a puddle of all that blood, and let out an ear-piercing shriek. The other regulars came running and started yelling nonsense. I heard JJ scream "what the hell is the matter with you?" and had just enough time to wonder if she was angry with me, but then all thoughts slid out of my mind like jello off a hot car hood and I was fading, fading, fading…

"WAKE UP!" a harsh voice yelled in my ear. I was in the hospital, and there were bulky bandages around my wrists. My dad was above me, his face contorted with rage. Oh…shit.

"Leave me alone. Make one move towards me and I'll press this button." I warned, pointing to the little button on my remote. I actually had no idea what it did, and he seemed to know that because he let out a cruel laugh.

"Threatening me, are we?" he asked, and I just looked away. He grabbed my chin and turned me to face him. He held a knife in his left hand.

"If you want to die, then, please, be my guest. Die." and then he stabbed me in the stomach. The pain was…excruciating. So much so, that I couldn't do more than gape at him. He cackled manically, and exited the room. The beeping on my heart monitor sped way up, then just flat lined. I got tunnel vision and I was slightly aware of doctors flooding in, and then…nothing.

God, if you pass out enough times, it actually starts to get old. Just saying…

Chapter 8

My eyelids fluttered open. I closed them, but then they shot straight open again to their own accord.

"Where's Angel?" I shrieked hoarsely. I jumped up, but was restrained my two nurses.

"Woa, slow down. Your sister is in the cafeteria with someone named Tracy." one of them said. I calmed down and laid back against the pillows. They backed slowly away. I drifted in and out of sleep for a while. Then Angel came back, and we cried a little.

"Hey, maybe we'll have matching scars." I joked through my pain. She cracked a wobbly smile, and went to staring out the window. Yeah, I told her about my suicide attempt. She didn't say anything.

"Why?" she blurted out suddenly.

"Why what?" I asked, startled.

"Why would you want to leave me here, alone with daddy?" she asked, and her high pitched voice broke on the last syllable. A tear leaked out of her eye, and was quickly followed by more. Soon, we were sobbing and holding each other.

"I don't know, baby, it was just too much. I don't know!"

"I understand." she sniffled in response.

"I'm sorry…so sorry." I whispered.

I got out of the hospital a couple weeks later. Things at home were surprisingly calm, given what had happened. Until one day…

I was walking in the rain to pick up Angel from school one day when I came across a figure on the railroad tracks yelling for help. His pants leg was caught, and the train was coming at full force. It was my dad, sober for once. Incredibly sober, actually…

"Help me! Maximum, help me, please! God, I'm sorry. I'm your father, you have to help me!" he yelled desperately. I regarded him calmly, even as the train's horn wailed and it came closer and closer. I made my face into a cold, hard mask.

"I have no father." I said, just loud enough to be heard over the roar of the rain. I turned and walked away, listening to his screams of agony all the way home.

Once home, I packed Angel's and my few belongings, then carried her across town to a little row of nice looking apartment homes. I went to the elevator and pressed floor 3, then waited and listened to the awful elevator music all the way up.

I stepped off the elevator and walked to apartment 3B, then knocked on the green door. Tracy answered, looking surprised at seeing us at her apartment.

"Um, hello. Are you ok?" she asked, looking worried.

"I'm ok, but I cant say the same for Jeb" (that's my "dad's" name.) "I just killed him." I answered, trying to sound nonchalant. Tracy gaped at me for a second, then quickly looked to see if anyone had heard which was stupid seen as how there was no one outside. She ushered us inside and offered us lemonade and cookies. Angel fell asleep against my shoulder, so I laid her gently on the couch.

"Maximum, can I talk to you for a second?" Tracy asked in a way that gave me no choice. I stood and walked with her to the kitchen.

"You said you killed Jeb?" she hissed. I shrugged and looked out the window at the insistent rain.

"Max, what happened?" she grabbed my shoulder and jerked me around so that I was facing her. I took one look at her face and burst into tears. And I never, ever cry.

I explained everything that happened. Tracy pulled me into a hug and rocked me back and forward. Before you ask, no. I was not crying over the fact that Jeb was dead. In fact, I couldn't be happier about that. The day had just finally gotten to me. I didn't know what I was going to do about anything anymore. The only thing I knew at this present moment in time was that me and Angel were finally safe.

Epilogue

I sat in the back row, alone, clad in a knee length black dress. I still had scars and bruises from what he had done to me. I did not cry, though people around me were sobbing.

"Oh, I'll just miss him so much, wont you, Maximum?" asked my grandmother, whom I hadn't seen in years and had turned the other way when she knew we were getting abused.

"No. I won't." I whispered. She looked at me in surprise, and I stared fiercely back. At the graveyard, we stood under an awning as the rain poured down on us. You could hear a thud as the cherry-colored casket hit the dirty, muddy bottom of the 6-foot deep hole. Still I didn't shed a tear. People gave me dirty looks that said "wow, what an awful daughter. She isn't even crying at her own father's funeral." well, they wouldn't be crying either if said father had beaten them almost to death more than once. I dropped a daisy, his least favorite flower, onto the casket, then left, and never looked back. Today was the start of new beginnings. No more blades of silver for me…


End file.
